


It Takes Great Strength

by reynabeth



Series: our hearts are bound (in this life and the next) [2]
Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types
Genre: F/F, I'm so sorry, not too graphic, reynabeth, some violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-11
Updated: 2016-05-11
Packaged: 2018-06-07 20:20:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6822502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reynabeth/pseuds/reynabeth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When the Greeks march relentlessly on New Rome, Annabeth and Reyna must fight to defend their city. Sequel to 'I'll Be There'.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It Takes Great Strength

**Author's Note:**

> If this was originally based on the story of Patroclus and Achilles - well, their story doesn't end in them getting married and living happily ever after, does it? I am so sorry. Sequel to I'll Be There. This is written slightly differently to the previous fic, but hopefully it's still okay.  
> (Anything you recognise belongs to Rick Riordan.)

It is common knowledge among Romans that, if the need arises, a good soldier will step up to the opportunity and join a battle. Whether it is a massacre, a doomed fight, a bloodbath; a lengthy, time-consuming play of strategy; or a mere advancement on a country's land, with perhaps a raid thrown in here and there, a Roman must go to prove their worth. 

Those who stay behind are treated as cowards. Those who stay behind are ridiculed in the street. Those who stay behind are laughed at behind closed doors.

My wife may be a war veteran, but I am not. I have never fought, never proved myself. I have heard what they say about me, and it is wrong. I am not a coward. I will not shy from conflict. 

If our city is endangered, I will rise to the challenge. I will fight for our freedom, for our land, for our people.

I am Annabeth Chase, and I will not back down. 

\------

We - that is, my wife Reyna and I - were twenty nine when the first threat became apparent.

Not far from the base of our legion - a few days of travelling, perhaps - lay another camp: another army, if you wish. We knew them merely as the Greeks, and previously they had posed no threat. Indeed, we had not been sure if they even knew of our existence.

It would seem that they did, they knew us all too well; perhaps they had waited until our defences were down to attack, or perhaps they felt they could not stay away forever. Whatever the reason, it was that summer that they chose to attack.

It was the praetor that first alerted us to the dangerous situation - Elliott Salvius, newly given praetorship, chosen straight from the First Cohort upon the death of our previous leader.

Reyna was sat out on the terrace, bathing in the sea of sunlight pouring into the valley. I was completing paperwork inside the house, and watching the city through the window, a whole little world spread out before us.

It was then that Salvius arrived, huffing and puffing his way up the narrow path that led to our house, his gangly limbs and shockingly red hair flapping in the wind.

"Praetor Salvius," said Reyna, inclining her head stiffly. "What brings you here?"

"The Greeks," gasped Salvius. "We are under attack from the Greeks! Reyna, you must help us, they-"

"Where are they at the moment?" Reyna inquired, cutting the boy off mid-flow, ever the picture of collection.

"Maybe an hour or two's walk," Salvius sputtered. "The scouts saw something on the horizon - they took horses - it's an army, Reyna, a whole army of them!"

"Calm yourself, Salvius," instructed Reyna. "We have dealt with far worse than these."

"W - what are you going to do, then?" Salvius asked. "Ma'am," he added, clearly remembering his manners and dropping down on one knee.

"Do not kneel for me, Salvius," Reyna told him. "It is imperative we form a strong defence as quickly as possible. Get at least half of the legion's soldiers - preferably the higher-ranked ones - out on guard, as well as any citizens who have the training and ability to fight. The weaker or younger legionnaires must stay in here to protect the city. Have them evacuate as many inhabitants who cannot defend themselves as possible."

Salvius looked stunned. "And what about you, my lady?"

"Call the top strategists into the Senate. I will be there, as will my wife; we must plan our battle."

"Yes, lady." Salvius turned, bowing his head to Reyna, and hurried back the way he had come.

I turned to Reyna worriedly. "I did not know of this," I said to her. "I did not think this day would ever come."

"Do not worry, my love," she said to me, pressing a kiss to my cheek; her lips were soft and sweet, like ripe berries. "It will be over as soon as it has begun. I will ensure that there is no danger."

"I know," I murmured, drawing her close. "Now come; if we are to be at the city in time, we must go now."

"Indeed."

\------

The Forum was easily the most memorable building in New Rome, with its towering columns; huge, gleaming marble walls; and friezes depicting our greatest heroes decorating the arching ceiling. 

Our voices bounced and echoed, every word amplified, every bang of a fist or scrape of a chair broadcast to the room.

Salvius' speech was brief, his words sharp and clear, informing us of the situation and suggesting multiple solutions. Occasionally, somebody would chime in with an additional point; I, however, stayed silent, my fingers digging into the cold edge of the rickety, uncomfortable wooden chair.

"May I speak, Salvius?" Reyna asked, and I flicked my gaze up to her, suddenly alert. "We are outnumbered. The Greeks march on us, a huge army, vicious and bloodthirsty. They will attack us, and we will fall and fall and fall again, and they will crush us under the raging hooves of their horses. Our city will be painted red with blood, and the marble of our temples will shine like bone in the massacre."

"But, my lady-" The man who had spoken had blond hair, scraped back against his head; it was thinning and peppered with streaks of white and grey already, despite the fact he was the same age as I. His eyes, however, had never aged: they were the same piercing blue as ever, his gaze as sharp and sure as if it could cut right through you, like you were paper.

"Be silent, Grace," Reyna said. "Salvius." She turned her attention from Grace, and I marvelled again at how beautiful and powerful she was. 

"Yes, my lady?"

"Please, Salvius, I am not your lady. Are the citizens leaving for the hills? And do we have the best soldiers holding our defences?"

"Indeed. Your orders have been followed to the word."

"Good." Reyna's hair was coming loose from its tight coil, pinned at the back of her head like a snake. A halo of dark strands floated around her head, tumbling waves framing her flushed face. She ran a hand through her hair, sending more pins clattering like raindrops to the floor.

She turned to me, then, and my heart changed key at the sight of her, in all her beauty and glory and power, standing at the head of the table, commanding as was her birthright. 

"Annabeth? What say you?"

Caught off guard, I stuttered for a moment, before pulling myself together. "I say we wait," I managed. "We should not send out soldiers to greet, them, not yet; if there are so many more of them, we could end up slaughtered like a sacrificial bull." Reyna nodded, following my words. "We should wait for them to come to us, and the legionnaires on defence can prevent their entrance to our city. But maybe one or two soldiers could try to wager a peace," I finish lamely. 

"Yes, I think you are right," Reyna said decisively. "I'll go." I did not protest, despite the sinking feeling in my stomach. "In the meanwhile, where is the augur? We need a signal as to which god we must appease in order to grant our safety, if not our victory."

"Here, my lady." A woman raised her hand, dark skin clinging to taut muscles and wiry tendons. "I will perform the necessary rites immediately." 

Underneath the table, Reyna's foot brushed against mine, a reassuring second of contact.

\------

Now, it seems like a dream, the towering columns of the hall; the table of strategists; the low, flickering candlelight illuminating the hollows of eyes and cheeks and lips.

Perhaps the realest part, in my mind, is what came after. I sat on a bench, perched precariously outside the temple, and in the light of the fading sun, I prayed. 

Please, I prayed, to any god who may have been listening. Please, keep us safe. Keep our city safe. And please, please, please - don't let her die.

I didn't once think to pray for my own safety. 

\-------

It was dark, the sky like tar, clinging to the roofs of the buildings and sticking to my skin. The moon sat in the sky, a perfect crescent, tilted at a slight angle, stitched into the dark clouds, sewn into the night. The stars hovered beside it, beads spilled over the blackness, eyes trained on the earth below. Reyna had gone, gone to meet the Greeks, and perhaps negotiate a peace.

I knotted my hands into my hair, tearing out some golden strands, not even caring about the pain. My heart beat in my chest, a rapid flutter, like the wings of a hummingbird or a butterfly. I could hear it drumming and pounding in my ear; I leapt up, pacing out a melody to the thumping of my pulse.

I could not help but imagine it: the clangs of metal on metal, the hoarse cries of fallen soldiers, the screaming of the horses, bloodshot eyes and frothing lips. I imagined the grass, sticky with blood and gore, the army's feet slipping and sliding on it. I imagined how she would fall. A spear, stuck through her chest; a sword, piercing her back; an arrow, puncturing her stomach. I imagined her crumpling over the neck of her horse, tumbling messily to the ground, limbs tangling in the blood-soaked grass, eyes fluttering shut. 

How would we win without her?

I wished I could scream, cry, shout; I wished I could let it out somehow. But I was numb, cold, frozen.

\-------

When Reyna returned, there were no tears, no sentimentality. I held her close, and she held me, and we stayed like that for a very long time. I knew without having to ask that there had been no peace treaty signed.

"Annabeth," she said eventually, drawing away, "they're going to make you fight."

"What?" I asked, suddenly alert. 

"They called you a coward, said that you must fight and prove your worth. I told them no, of course, but they insist."

I stood still for a moment, my mouth gaping open like a fish. "Do not go," Reyna urged me. "It is too dangerous."

But, "I will go," I said, drawing myself up to my full height. "You forget, my love, that I too am a warrior, with skills second only to yours. Just because you are brave and strong does not mean I cannot also be brave and strong."

Reyna was silent for a long time. "Yes," she said eventually. "Yes, you are right. You should be free to choose." She laid a hand on my shoulder. "But you understand the danger? The fear? The humiliation?"

"I would rather the humiliation of battle than that of our city." I laced my fingers through hers. "Do not fret so, my love. I will be safe."

"You will be safe," she repeated. She leaned forward, an infinitesimal shift, and I tilted my head up, pressing our lips together. Tonight, there was no heat, no passion. There was fear, sadness, anger; there was the prospect of death, looming over the horizon; there was a quiet sort of desperation; and there was us. Just us.

"Now," she said, when finally we broke apart. "Let us go to the Senate and inform them of your decision."

"Perhaps you should change first," I said with a laugh, indicating her dusty, dirt-stained armour, and the scrapes and bruises on her face.

"Of course," she replied, meeting my eyes with a smile.

Deep down, I knew it was not dirt that stained her armour.

\-------

"Annabeth Chase has informed me that she wishes to bear the battlefield for our city, whatever the cost, as was your earlier wish." Reyna's voice rang out clear and loud in the echoing hall of the Forum. One of the praetors was there, not Salvius this time; even now, when I try so hard to remember, I forget her name. (Lakshmi, I think it was, though I could be wrong. At this stage, does it even matter?) 

"Indeed," the praetor said. "Fascinating. Are you sure she's up for the task?" The girl's lip curled into a sneer, ruining her pretty face; if it wasn't for her constant snobbishness, she would have been beautiful, with her big brown eyes, fine black hair, and doll-like face and body.

"Of course she's up for the task!" Reyna snapped angrily, before regaining her composure and stepping forwards. "Annabeth Chase has trained with me for nearly twenty years. She has been taught by Lupa, once as an infant, and then again at an older age, with me also."

"I doubt much of your time was spent training," muttered the praetor. I could tell Reyna was shocked at this girl's behaviour, shocked enough to lose her temper entirely. 

"So," I interrupted. "May I fight, or not?"

"Of course you may," sighed the praetor. "We need more soldiers, and, as inadequate as you are, I suppose you'll do."

"Thank you," I said, stiffly inclining my head; Reyna did too, though she looked unhappy about it.

I knew how the fighting worked, of course. The Greeks were camped out just across the horizon, perhaps an hour's ride away. Every day, they would advance, forcing us to fight. They would kill us, slaughter us, and then retreat, waiting for the fresh day and the fresh wave of soldiers. Eventually, there would be hardly any of us left. The Greeks would take the city, claim it as their own; the rest of us would be used as slaves, as spoils. 

I was afraid - of course I was - but also determined. The Greeks would not, could not take our land. I may not have been able to do much, but I would fight all I could.

So I did.

\-------

The day it happened, the sky was yellow, curling at the edges like a faded piece of parchment, an old scroll, blackened with smudges of charcoal and ash. There was no sun; perhaps it was hiding behind the clouds, behind the bile-yellow sky. Perhaps the blood and the fighting and the death was too much for even the gods to comprehend.

My armour was new, almost unused; it shone silver, bright in the parade of battle and murder. I sat astride a horse, a chestnut-haired stallion, young and freshly trained for battle.

Reyna rode by my side, dark hair covered by a golden helmet, pride in the set of her jaw, in the squint of her eyes, in the straightness of her back. 

We met the Greeks on the battlefield. 

A hoarse cry, the cry of thousands, and the hooves of a hundred horses slapping against the soft earth, and then they were upon us. At first, all I could see was sunlight: the weak sunlight, filtering through the the coal-dust clouds, glinting from the bronze armour and swords of the enemy. 

I squinted, weapon raised, at the swarms gaining on us. "Legion, cunuem formate!" I heard somebody cry distantly. 

"Impetus!" shouted somebody else, a praetor this time, I thought. Attack.

There was a rush, a charge; I was swept away in a sea of soldiers. Metal on metal, flesh on flesh, bone on bone. Blood and gore and guts and horror, pure horror, and I couldn't breathe, I couldn't think, I couldn't move, and the blood was spraying into the sky and I didn't know where I was, who I was; I didn't recognise the soldiers around me and maybe they were Greeks or Romans but I didn't know, I didn't know anything, and I couldn't breathe-

"Annabeth! Annabeth! Annabeth!"

\- I cannot breathe I cannot think I cannot move where are they who are they why am I not dead where is Reyna my love -

"Annabeth! Annabeth, move!"

\- my love stay safe if my time has come you must keep going I want you to stay alive I cannot see I cannot move my chest is stiff I cannot breathe if my time is up please let me be strong -

"Annabeth! Annabeth, you will die! Move!"

\- let me be strong for my mother and my father and my wife and my friends and myself have I done enough good in this world to reach paradise my time is up my time has come this is it this is the end it's over it's over it's -

A hand. A hand, on my arm. The palm pressed into my armour, fingers curling around me. "Annabeth. You need to get away." Reyna. "You're in direct line of fire. If you stay here, you will die. And I cannot let you die."

\- it's not over.

"Yes," I replied distantly, words muffled by the sounds of war. "Yes."

I turned the horse, wheeling around, following Reyna away. Somehow, distantly, I noticed that the arrows raining down around me were not touching me, as if I was being protected by something, or someone. 

"You must stay here, Annabeth. You mustn't try to fight, unless it's to defend yourself. I need you safe." Reyna placed a hand on my arm, her eyes distractedly searching my face, mouth twisted into a worried, serious line.

"I can fight!" I snapped, face heating up. "I am not a child. I am not weak. I can fight for our legion, and I will."

"Of course. Be safe, my love." She cupped my face briefly, eyes softening minimally, and then turned and rode back into battle, disappearing in moments. I touched a hand to my cheek, feeling where her hand had touched, my fingers lingering there.

Without Reyna, I felt instantly exposed. My hand wavered a little as I brandished my sword, but I kept my chin up high. Today was not the day I would die.

Until that moment, it had not seemed real. It had seemed a nightmare, a terror come in the darkness to haunt me as I slept, but not real. Never real. Then, as a foot soldier launched himself at me, fingers grabbing at my horse's mane and saddle, grasping at my limbs and pulling me, it was far from a dream. I kicked out at the man's fingers, pushing him from me, leaving him sprawled upon the ground. 

Guard up, I urged my horse on, heading straight into the fray.

\-------

Sometimes, in the midst of battle, time can change and warp. It could have been two minutes or two hours or two days that I was in there. The moments stretched on, then rushed past - or perhaps it was the other way around. 

I couldn't hear my own breath, my own thoughts; all I knew was my heartbeat, thundering in my chest. There was shouting, all around, deafening shrieks and roars. 

I caught a glimpse of a corpse - though of what side I did not know - and a flash of white bone. I gagged involuntarily, turning away. That could so easily be me.

I did not want to kill. I held the sword out in front of me, gripping my horse's reins with the other hand, and half-closed my eyes in horror. Then I thought of the female praetor's voice, her thick scepticism, and my resolve hardened.

I seemed to spend an eternity in that spot. The battle was moving, moving all the time, like a living, breathing creature; all of a sudden, I realised I had reached the outskirts of the fighting again.

The direct line of fire, I realised, with a sickening dread. 

Even more sickening was the thud that came next. I turned, surprised; behind me, a smug Greek soldier pulled another knife from his belt. A sudden agony shot through me, burning my insides and scorching my skin. 

I was almost unaware of my horse, rearing up in shock, throwing me from its back. I landed with an explosion of pure pain, limbs crumpled and folded, as my steed ran, screaming, from the battle.

I had been hit - gods, it hurt; the knife had missed my heart, but instead struck my side - I was going to die. I was going to die. 

I thought then of my family. My mother, the goddess: she had never appeared to me, never deemed me worthy of her love, but I prayed to her, and I drew strength from her. My father, who I had never known: I imagined his face, proud as could be, of his daughter, the daughter he had given to the wolves. Perhaps I even had siblings. 

It was a funny kind of pain, the pain in my back and my stomach and my side - oh, my side - where the cold metal sat, where the blood dripped and the flesh gaped. It was a cold pain, an electric cold, an electric freeze, ice spreading through my body. I knew, with a sudden certainty, that when the cold reached my toes I would be dead.

It was a hot pain too, the kind of pain that boiled my blood and my muscles and my eyes, the kind of pain that had me throwing back my head and writhing on the floor like a snake in its death throes.

I closed my eyes and lay on the slick grass.

What defines you? I thought. What defines me? Is it your actions, your words, your thoughts? Are you defined by the people you love and hate, by the things you create, by the paths you take, by the choices you make? Yes, I thought. Yes, it was all those things and more. 

I loved Reyna. All my life, I loved Reyna. And I chose to love her. I chose it with all of my heart. I reached out and I let her into my love, my life, my soul. 

I loved the Twelfth Legion. I belonged to them. I served and fought and killed, I trained and I learned and I studied, I bled and I sweated and I cried, and it was for them, for my city, for my home.

I loved my family. I never knew them, but I loved them. I cried out for them at night, when I was a child, and I would dream of their faces. Now, when I try and recall my father's eyes, his hair, his hands - all I have is white mist and blur.

I chose this life. I poured myself into it. I filled up my heart with love and hope and joy, and that's what defined me. 

Why, I wondered, was I not getting trampled to death? My eyes fluttered open, just a tiny bit. The world spun alarmingly above me, the acid sky burning the bloodied chaos of the battle. My vision darkened, as if I were about to pass out, when I head it. When I heard her.

"Annabeth? Has anybody seen Annabeth? We must confer!" Reyna. Oh, gods, it was Reyna. She could not see me like this - but I had no energy in me to move. 

A horse's whinny, somewhere above me, the thump of boots. "Be careful," someone called, "there's a fallen soldier here. One of ours."

I closed my eyes again, trying to stop the dizziness. 

"Who?" Reyna's voice again. "Let me see."

I do not know the exact moment she realised it was me. Perhaps it was the sharp intake of breath, perhaps the crunch of feet on the ground, perhaps the soft touch on my shoulder. "No," I heard. "No. No!" 

I forced my eyes open for the final time. My mouth was dry and stiff; I could taste blood on my tongue. "Reyna..." I whispered, the words sounding like a prayer from my chapped, bloodied lips. My hand fluttered feebly at her arm, covering her palm with my own.

"Annabeth, Annabeth, don't go, don't leave me, save your strength, please, don't go, don't go, don't go." Reyna repeated the words like a mantra.

"Reyna," I murmured, so quietly she had to lean in to hear me. "Reyna, be strong. Be strong for me."

"No, no, you can't go..." Her voice trailed off into a keening wail of grief.

"Reyna, listen to me. When I'm not here anymore, you must continue without me. Keep them safe for me. Keep them all safe."

"I don't want to keep them safe! I want to keep you safe! And you will be safe, Annabeth; don't talk, save yourself. Carry on breathing. We'll get you back, you can be healed, and you won't have to fight again, I promise, as long as you're safe -"

"I am dying, Reyna. I'm scared." I took her hand, weakly curling my fingers around it.

"Don't be scared, my love. Be brave." Her tears dropped slowly onto my forehead, carving paths through the grime and dust and blood. "Be brave, for it takes great strength to die for what you love."

"Win the war for me," I breathed. A single tear rolled down my cheek. "If I never see you again, I love you."

"You will always be here," Reyna croaked, gesturing to her heart. "I swear to all the gods, as long as I'm alive, you will always be in my heart. Always."

"I love you." A ghost of a smile crossed my face.

Reyna leaned over me, pressed her lips against mine. I must have reeked of blood and sweat and dust, but she kissed me, and our tears intermingled on my skin. "Our hearts are bound together," she whispered against my cheek. "I'll find you again, in the next life and the next and the next."

"I know."

Her fingers tightened on mine. "I love you."

I took in her face, for I wanted it to be the last sight I saw. I memorised the features I knew so well, mapping them into my soul, carving them into my life. 

Then, with a phantom smile and a ghost of a kiss on my lips, I  closed my eyes, took one last breath, and focussed on the image of Reyna's face until that too faded into oblivion.

**Author's Note:**

> The ending was kinda rushed, but I hope it's alright! Also - it takes great strength to die, but greater strength to live without someone. I cannot comprehend losing someone I love, but to all of you that have to deal with that on a daily basis - this is for you.  
> (Kudos are greatly appreciated. It would mean the world to me - basically - if you could leave a comment. Thank you!)


End file.
